Only Lonely
by Spookysstarbuck
Summary: Another St. Valentin Day shows up ....


Titel: Only Lonely 

By: Mary Eve Parker

Rating: strong PG 13 - R (nothing graphical, not really hard language) 

Note: If you are easily troubled by the world of fear, angst and loneliness, than stop here and don't read any further. Just do me this favour before you judge me afterwards. 

Note: Response to Mickey's new Letter Challenge (from 22nd Oct. 02)

Thanks to my very best ever had beta – Mel (couldn't write without her anymore)

**Only Lonely **

~~ MONDAY ~~ 

It had been a day like every other. My work was tiring me lately. Sydney said that I am not the same human being since I am back from the Islands, back from Scotland. Back from the almost kiss with Jarod. 

Now I was in my car at the grocery store. My fridge was empty and I needed some I needed some essentials, that's the reason why I went to Dulles. Normally I wouldn't go to such shops on a Saturday, not if in the next week was Valentine's Day. It was too frustrating, too depressing to see all those happy people there. 

So here I am now between Alcohol and Underwear, Valentine's underwear. God I hate this season of the year. If Christmas wasn't enough, Easter is coming soon and between that is Carnival. God. 

I pushed the cart from one shelf to the other one. What's in my cart you are asking? Well actually just two bottles of Bourbon, Whiskey, Scotch and Vodka, but also some orange juice, fresh lemons and two bags of crisps. 

And now I rolled the cart in front of the St. Valentine's sexy underwear section. I grabbed a negligee in dark red with black hearts printed on it and very little to imagine.  I was holding it in my hands and studying it carefully but on the other hand for whom should I wear it? There wasn't somebody? Nobody! But maybe I should wear it for myself, to feel …. to feel like a woman again and not like a Centre machine. 

I let this nightdress glide into the cart with a new set of dark red silk underwear with black lace and a couple of other Valentine accessories. Just to wear them for myself, nobody else, just myself. 

°° 

Slowly driving home in my new car, slowly, not like normally as fast as possible. My house was empty. Empty and cold. Nobody there. Nobody to talk to. Nobody there to be held by. Nobody ever. Not since a long time. A long time has passed since I felt comfortable at home. Many years are gone. Too many maybe. But I wasn't able to change the world. 

Maybe it was the best for me and for the world that nobody was out there caring for me. Maybe it was the best not to see somebody at home. Not somebody who would humiliate me, more than I was able to do it on my own. It was the best the way it was now. The very best. 

Slowly I pulled in, in front of my big lonely house. How many times I have tried to work on this hard, but I can't change it. Things won't change, its impossible. 

°° 

Slowly I walked in, found an envelope on the floor. Slowly I picked it up, slowly I sat down, slowly I opened it, put out a piece of paper, opened it carefully:

****

****

**_Dear Michaela,   
I know I'm probably violating several rules of the whole you run I chase game by telling you what I'm about to tell you, but then again I have never been fond of the game anyway. The first thing I wanted to tell you that I found my Mom. I of course can't tell you anymore than that right now. Maybe sometime in the future.   
The second thing I wanted to tell you is that I have feelings, very strong feelings for you. I want to be with you. I want to wipe away your tears, and help rid you of the pain you have long suffered. I need to know if you feel the same way, and if I have any chance on any kind at all with you. If you love me, meet me at Remo's on Front Street west in New York as soon as you get this. If you're not there by seven Wednesday evening I'll know your answer is no. _**

Love Always,  
Jarod

God knows that I love him. I love him more than my own life. But he deserves better, somebody better than me. Somebody without this past and this present.

°° 

I poured myself a glass of Bourbon, sat down on the sofa and re-read the letter once and another time and another one. The words didn't change the fact that I couldn't go to Remo's. How often have I told him when I was younger about this small Italian Restaurant? Maybe too often, maybe life wasn't the same anymore. Not mine for sure. I am not this small girl anymore. I can't do things with which I would hurt him. I would hurt him badly with going and telling him that I love him and that he deserves better things than me. Many things have changed since I was little and we trusted each other enough to tell the other one all the fears, hopes and wishes. 

He has found his mother. At least he has one, still has one. Again has one. Nothing can bring my mother back, nothing and nobody. Not even Jarod. He deserves somebody more mature than me. Somebody who isn't in bed at night, crying till the sun is raising again. Somebody who isn't grieving all day and all night, not after years. 

I have two days to decide what to do, he has given me two long days to cry even more about the fact that I couldn't do it. That I can't admit my feelings. I would hurt him, would break his heart. And mine. I pay the price this time. Jarod you don't have to pay this time. I take it. 

~~ TUESDAY ~~ 

Still no sleep all night long. Again a headache in the morning. Life was worse, especially mine. Maybe it has just been too much Vodka after the Bourbon, maybe it was my life which made this headache worse everyday. 

Slowly I made myself a big mug of coffee and drank it, all in one. The letter was still on my kitchen table, still there waiting. I knew that I should think about it but I wasn't able to spend a thought about the – how should I manage that? 

I slowly went to the bathroom again. I was standing in front of the mirror. Here I was, standing there in a white blouse I couldn't even remember owning. The slacks were green. I don't know how old they were. Standing there I noticed that I looked horrible. It wasn't that I was pale, I was but that wasn't what was bothering me, it was my combination in fashion. My taste was good normally. Well normally I would have never bought this blouse, nor decided to wear this slacks. God what happened to me?

Slowly I moved to my bedroom and got out of the trousers and the blouse, put them both into the wastebasket. This wasn't me anymore. 

I slipped into a dark blue pair of slacks and a tight matching top. I decided to wear "normal" shoes. 

~*~ 

Work had been as boring as every day.  Broots bored me to hell with some computer stuff I don't understand and I am not interested in understanding. I mean I have a PC at home and if you need something he is proud to come over and help me with it. I don't need to know all this HTML stuff and Pearl and all those other things. Really I don't. 

Now I am home thanks god for it with a couple of rented movies because there never ever something interesting on TV, why do I pay for cable at all? 

I got myself a couple of old movies – Katherine Hepburn and Spencer Tracy, an unbelievable team. I love them a lot. Mum and I were watching them on TV when I was little. I will never forget how much fun we had with Katherine Hepburn and Cary Grant in the movie with the leopard and how much we cried in "Little woman" and laughed in "Adam's Rib" and were thinking in "Woman of the year" – today I got "Lions in Winter" and "African Queen". I can't believe that there are still people in America who are thinking that Audrey Hepburn is Katherine's sister. How stupid are they? Hm … 

I changed into comfortable cloths and sat down with a glass of Bourbon and started to watch "Lion in Winter". I think I have read all books dealing around the topic after seeing it the first time. Eleonore and Henry II. fascinated me a lot but on the other hand it was such a sad story. In the beginning he couldn't get her early enough from the French King, her first husband, and than he has had one mistress after the other one – even after she had given three healthy sons to him. 

Of course I was crying in the end, why not, it was a Hepburn movie you are supposed to cry in the end. It was always the same with her movies. 

I watched another movie I rented next "Out of Africa" another movie you have to cry in the end …. Robert Redford dying in a plan crash. God, I always start crying when Meryl Streep starts "I have had a farm in Africa …". 

Thanks that I remembered it because I have gotten myself a big pack of Tempos before I started this movie. I needed half of it through it. God I have Klaus Maria Brandauer's act in it, never liked it. And Redford, the most handsome redhead I have ever met.  Okay ever seen on the screen. I have always had the hots for him, always. 

But in real life things were different. Life was sad. Life was somehow not what I expected to be. 

Like it was  now. I am here sitting alone on my sofa, watching a damned love story instead of having a love life. I also started to ask myself what a love life is or was. Who it would be to be touched by somebody else than me – if this was still possible. 

And than I saw it again – Jarod's letter on the couch table. I picked it up again while Robert Redford was wandering arm in arm with Meryl Streep over the endless prairies of Africa. 

He really still has feelings for me after all those years, after all those years of running and chasing. He was still waiting for me. 

~~ Wednesday ~~ 

"Sydney I am not feeling well … no you don't have to come over … just my stomach … yes …exactly …. don't baby me Sydney I am an adult now …. okay … see you tomorrow." 

So I have my day off now. My flight goes at 11, now its about 9 – I should at least pack a small bag of things. I don't know when I will come back. 

Last night I made my decisions after seeing Robert Redford dying and Meryl Streep mourning. 

°° 

Am I doing the right thing? – I asked myself when I left the Airport in New York. Just a couple of minutes and I would be in his arms, in Jarod's arms.  I will take a cab. 

I took a cab and was standing at the opposite side of the street seeing him. And than he saw me. Eye contact. I felt the butterflies in my belly again. He looked handsome and our eyes were locked. 

Jarod was wearing a dark jacket, leather I think, and jeans in blue – not typical. But who cares? 

Every second seem to be an hour. 

I saw him. 

Slowly he turned around to me. 

Our eyes locked. 

I let my bag fall on the floor. 

Stepped between the cars, slowly one step after the other. 

Jarod too. 

I was only four steps from him away when I heard a loud noise coming from behind. 

Jarod tried to fall over me. 

Suddenly I felt a warm feeling in my back. 

I fell. 

"No", Jarod screams. 

My head hits the floor. 

bums …. 

Jarod is over me. 

He is holding my head in his lap. 

I am tired. 

I am cold. 

But he is here.   
I am so tired.

I am so cold. 

Somehow I feel him going away. 

Somehow I really feel dizzy. 

His hands are on my cheeks, whispering something.  
I can't hear him. 

I am cold. 

I close my eyes. 

Everything is white now, warm and Mum is here …. 

~°°~°°~°°~°°~°°~ 

       THE END 

~°°~°°~°°~°°~°°~

liked it? or not? 

mary_eve_parker@yahoo.com 


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